Blood of Time
by Bella The Strange
Summary: Shortly after Jack ran off to find his Doctor, the team have a run-in with a vampire and Ianto finds himself in a world of darkness. Rated T because it's Torchwood.
1. Embraced

x x x

**Blood of Time**

x x x

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I own nothing of value... and both of these intellectual properties are quite valuable as far as I can tell.

**Author's Note:** I like picking on Ianto, what can I say? You always hurt the ones you love.

This fic is a crossover with _Vampire: The Masquerade_, but you shouldn't need to know anything about that fandom to follow this fic, as the entire story is from the point of view of a freshly turned vampire who has to learn all this stuff for himself as well.

x x x

**Chapter 1: Embraced**

x x x

Ianto's world was an eerie blur of pleasure and pain. He had no idea what had happened to him or where he was now. He felt a strange, desperate kind of hunger, and the oddly pleasant bitter taste in his mouth seemed to drive that desire up to a fever pitch.

He shivered as the echoes of sensation faded somewhat, and opened his eyes to a world that seemed alight with an otherworldly glow. It was a clear night, the moon a waning crescent like a knife of blinding light through the sky, every distant faint pinprick of starlight almost seared his eyes. He turned his gaze to the side and saw he was in an unlit alley, but the finest details of every brick on the far wall were clear as crystal to him.

He leaned his head back, eyes closed against the oddly blinding starlight, and whispered to himself, "What the hell?" The sound echoed in his ears, almost as if he had shouted.

He licked his dry lips slowly. That bitter taste, alluring, almost arousing.

He slowly sat up, his mind raced over the possibilities. Drugs? Poison? Unknown alien something? The last thing he remembered was leaving the Hub for a Weevil hunt. Weevils definitely do not do this.

He reached his hand to the commlink in his ear, about to call the rest of the team, but hesitated. He carefully turned down the volume and then tapped the button to activate it, "Gwen? Owen? Tosh?"

"Where'd you run off to?" With the commlink at its lowest setting it still felt like Owen was shouting right in his ear.

With the team, he had learned the hard way that when you didn't know what the hell to do, honesty was really the best policy, therefore, "The last thing I remember, the Weevil alarm had just gone off and we were getting in the SUV. What happened?" he asked rather bluntly.

There was an unpleasant silence over the comms for a moment, and it only served to make him fear the worst. Owen's eventual answer wasn't too far off of his fears, "Something else went for the Weevil, totally shredded it, then went for you. It just grabbed you and ran off. We're still trying to figure out where you even are."

"Isn't Tosh tracking my life signs?" Ianto asked.

"I... can't detect you." she answered somewhat nervously.

Ianto stared at a particularly uninteresting crack in the brickwork across the street as he took in this statement. It made no sense. "I have a GPS chip in my left arm, courtesy of Torchwood One, which reads my life signs. How can you suddenly not be tracking that?"

"It's not signalling." Tosh answered, frowning. "The only way it would stop were if you were hit by a powerful EMP that knocked it offline, if it was removed from your body-" Ianto immediately checked the fine and old scar on his left arm. No, it was still there. "Or if you died."

"The chip is definitely still in my arm." Ianto observed.

"So our alien has an EMP, right?" Gwen concluded.

An eerie kind of fear rose in the back of Ianto's mind, as he suddenly noticed one of those things you don't usually notice until you think about it. His breathing. Or in this case, the fact he wasn't. His hand slowly moved to his chest, and the lack of heartbeat there made him feel sick. "I don't think so, Gwen."

Again that unnerving silence over the comms.

The iridescent light was starting to fade, now. As were the echoes of pleasure that he still felt skipping through his nerves. He had absolutely no idea what had happened to him, but whatever it was had clearly felt good. He very much doubted dying felt good... but then what was going on?

Soon he was in near-total darkness, the now-faint crescent moon and a dim streetlamp on the main road were the only sources of light. Still the strange detail was visible. Almost like the difference between his normal vision and this were comparable to VHS and blu-ray. High definition.

He found himself laughing in spite of the situation.

"What's so funny?" Owen asked rudely. His voice barely a whisper now, so Ianto turned the volume back up to normal on the comms.

But then he didn't answer Owen's question.

Someone else had just entered the alleyway, and she was pointing a gun right at him.

She was dressed entirely in black, a practical pantsuit that appeared to be high-fashion. Her hair was dark brown, elegantly curled with obvious deliberate intent, and she had very pale skin. She was the very definition of beauty from a bygone era. A perfect heroine from a WWII movie, but dressed for the twenty-first century.

As she held her gun trained on him, she frowned and pulled out a cell-phone. When the call connected she spoke with brisk efficiency, in a beautifully lilted Welsh accent, "I have executed the anathema, but it appears he sired a childe. What would you have me do?"

Ianto didn't hear the reply, but her demeanour indicated she accepted it as an order. "As you wish." she answered curtly.

Ianto watched her warily as she approached him, "I'm guessing from the way you used words I don't recognise, and one in particular that I did, that you're either going to try to kill me, or you're going to tell me what's going on?" he asked, trying to maintain a veneer of calm.

Inside, he was in turmoil. The feeling of starvation from earlier was rising up into a roiling hunger. He was almost paralysed by sense of fear at the presence of a being every instinct in his body screamed was a predator - and the prettier they are the more deadly, he thought morbidly. The genuine curiosity and desperation to know what had happened to him warred with an instinctive need to flee or fight her.

He tried not to think about the fact the fight instinct leaned more towards the physical than to the gun in his jacket. That a deep and unsettlingly inhuman part of his mind suggested the very best course of action would be to bite her.

She seemed amused by his question, "Not personally, I shan't." she said with almost malevolent good humour.

She offered him her hand, still training the gun on him with the other. Warily he accepted.

x x x

Ianto was escorted out into the main street, where the woman indicated he should get into the red Porsche parked there. She drove him through the darkened streets far enough that he recognised where he was again by the time she pulled up to an expensive looking office building.

Ianto instantly disliked it. It had too much of a Torchwood One feel about it.

But he allowed her to lead him inside, and into an elevator that took them up to the top floor.

The room he was led into was designed very much like the penthouse apartment of a workaholic, rather than the type of offices he had expected from the exterior. It had a panoramic view of the city around it, and he could just spot the plaza and mermaid quay in the distance among the sights.

There were five people here, aside from himself and the woman who had brought him here.

Two women sat on a couch, in a manner that indicated they had been chatting before he got here, but now they were far more interested in him than their previous conversation. The elder-looking of the two was Asian, with short dark hair and a very austere and unfriendly expression on her face. The younger was blonde and deathly pale, but incredibly pretty in spite of it.

A tall, dark-skinned and very well-build man stood in a corner, looking imposing and a bit uncomfortable with his surroundings. A younger, somewhat unkempt-looking man sat in a comfortable chair across from the women. If the blonde woman looked pale, this man looked positively ashen, and while he had been actively attempting to ignore their conversation, he did still turned his attention to Ianto now the room had fallen silent.

Behind the desk in the middle of the room sat a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had fair hair and striking grey eyes, and an air of indomitable authority about him. When he saw Ianto enter the room he rose from his seat and spoke warmly, "Greetings, childe."

A part of Ianto wanted to take offence. He couldn't be that much younger than this man, could he? Only the knowledge that they might want to kill him, and the fact he'd met and/or heard of a fair few ancient aliens who could pass for younger humans as they pleased, made him hold his tongue.

The man moved around his desk to more directly address Ianto, as he explained, "I am the Prince of this city. You have already met my enforcer, Maria."

Ianto glanced to the woman who added with all due manners for a formal occasion, "Maria Suzanne Morgan."

The tone of the meeting was set as formal, so Ianto went into formal mode almost automatically. Though he was nervous, he still followed the protocol of answering, "My name is Ianto Jones. I'm sorry, I'm not entirely certain what's going on."

"What do you recall of your Embrace?" the Prince asked. When Ianto's expression showed his confusion, the Prince clarified, "What happened to you tonight?"

"My friends and I were called out to the park. I don't know what happened after we left the office, the next thing I remember is waking up in the alleyway where Maria found me." he answered. While the exact words were entirely honest, the lie of omission was there. He would not tell these people about Torchwood if he could possibly avoid it.

Maria shifted, somewhat uneasily. "The anathema did pass through the park, but I didn't see the incident. Only the aftermath. One of the sewer-dwelling creatures our Nosferatu friends often complain about was eviscerated. I cleaned up the mess, but it is possible the childe's mortal friends witnessed the incident."

Sewer dwelling creatures. Well that was probably the Weevil Owen mentioned. But it only left more questions than answers. And he was not the least bit comforted by the use of the word Nosferatu. He'd heard it in movies, he knew what it implied.

He was also suddenly worried that these people might want to harm the rest of the team for witnessing... whatever this anathema was. Ianto knew the dictionary definition of the word, but he didn't know its meaning in this context.

Then again, as he had felt when he first joined Torchwood One, when you stumble into a secret society that _knows things_, better to play along and learn those things for yourself before doing anything to upset anyone. He would do his best to keep the team out of this if it was likely to endanger them, but for now he would play along.

On the bright side the Prince seemed not to be too bothered by the thought that the rest of the team could have been involved. He seemed far more interested in Ianto himself. "So you remember nothing?"

Ianto shook his head, "Sorry, not a thing."

"Then perhaps you may be of use to us." the Prince said thoughtfully.

Ianto couldn't help but notice the way both Maria and the man in the corner tensed up as if they really wanted to disagree but also wanted to see where this was going. The younger-looking man sitting down glared viciously, but also didn't say anything.

"Your sire broke our laws, murdered and diablorised three elders of our kind, and then he made you." the Prince explained calmly, "I do wonder why, when he was marked for death, he would stop and think to make a childe. He must have known we might find you, but I cannot help the thought he may have passed on to you a message, or some kind of instruction. Memory is a fickle thing, and it may yet come back to you."

Ianto didn't recognise all of those words, but he'd heard enough to start forming a somewhat unsettling conclusion. Nosferatu was a popular word for vampire. The Prince referred to them as their kind, in a way that implied they weren't human. Ianto himself appeared to be clinically dead, yet he was still walking around. And that unsettling kind of hunger was still present in the back of his mind.

"What exactly is your kind?" he asked warily.

The Prince laughed, "_Our_ kind." he said with a gesture that was clearly inclusive of Ianto. "We are the Kindred, though I suppose the word you would understand best is 'vampire'."

Ianto cursed, though he had the decency to only mouth the swear word rather than say it aloud.

The Prince chuckled, "You don't seem surprised."

"I've seen all the movies." Ianto confessed. He probably hadn't seen _all_ of them, but those he hadn't Owen had given him the full play-by-play summary of... whether Ianto wanted to hear it or not. "I already figured out I was dead before Maria found me, and the way you were talking made it a viable possibility. I just hadn't narrowed it down until you said it."

Regardless of the fact it wasn't surprising, he was still upset by it. Had he been alone or in the company of friends, he might have broken down by now. He was, however, surprised that Torchwood had precisely _zero_ history of ever encountering a real not-an-alien-faking-it vampire before.

Or maybe they did, and the vampires were _really_ good at cleaning up their messes. That was a somewhat terrifying thought.

"Then this shouldn't shock you at all." a female voice said from just behind him. The younger-looking of the two women who had been chatting on the couch was now standing there, offering him a bottle that, while it was labelled as a popular brand of light beer clearly contained a thick dark-coloured liquid.

"Yeah, I hadn't processed that part yet." Ianto replied, warily taking the bottle. He glanced at the woman, "Thank you."

"Jeanine." she answered, "Jeanine Fairweather. Yeah, I like the irony."

Ianto tried to smile but it came out as kind of a grimace instead. He could smell what was in the bottle now, and it smelled vile, and he couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"Not to your taste?" the Prince asked with both surprise and amusement.

"It's blood." Ianto said flatly, with obvious revulsion.

"Oh believe me, now you're one of us, that _can't_ be what offends you." Jeanine said brightly, "But some people can be picky. From what I can gather, it's not even a blood type as such, more often the type of person rather than chemical composition." She took the bottle back from him, sniffed it and shrugged, "Smells good to me." She wandered off to a cabinet by the nearest wall, and began rifling through it before producing another bottle with a different brand label on it. "Try this." she suggested, offering the new bottle to him, this time keeping the first one for herself and took a delicate sip of it, blatantly savouring the flavour.

"This is ridiculous." Ianto muttered, but any further line of protest was cut off when he smelled what was in the new bottle he had been handed. He couldn't understand how _blood_ could smell like the most appetising thing in the world, but it did. That hunger he had felt since he woke up leapt now to the front of his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from drinking the entire bottle in one go.

He was left absolutely stunned, and more than a bit offended at his own lack of self-control. It was the best thing he had ever tasted, and he couldn't understand why that thought didn't make him feel sick.

And then he realised that everyone in the room appeared to be amused by this, which only added to his discomfort.

The younger man chuckled, "Looks like he's one of yours, Prince."

The Prince frowned at the young man, but then shrugged, "It would seem so, James."

"So it was a Ventrue who murdered my Sire, then." James said darkly, before turning back to attentively ignoring the rest of the room.

There was a sense of unease permeating the room now.

"Now, James." Jeanine said soothingly, "We shouldn't hold any ill will to an entire clan for the actions of an individual. None of us knew the anathema, he was a rogue element."

"Easy for you to say." the man standing in the corner muttered darkly, "Your clan didn't lose anyone to him."

"While it's nice to see such a sense of clan loyalty among my Primogen, I must agree with Jeanine." the Prince said diplomatically, "It is neither his clan's fault as a whole, nor his childe's fault as an innocent victim of his actions. Placing blame upon anyone but the perpetrator is pointless when we lack the information to prove whether or not he acted alone."

The murmurs of assent were not given grudgingly... except by James, who still looked deeply displeased about the entire situation.

"Excuse me." Ianto asked politely. They were all looking at him now, "But when do I get the guide book with translations for popular local words and phrases?"

Jeanine laughed, and the Prince smiled. The others looked as if they weren't entirely sure whether to be amused or insulted. "Ah yes." the Prince said, amused once more, "I suppose we should explain."

He gestured to Jeanine, who eagerly began to talk, leading Ianto over to sit on the couch as she did so. She even offered him another bottle of that delicious smelling blood, though he didn't drink it yet. "The Prince is the elected ruler of the city, a non-gendered term in spite of mortal historical connotations. The hierarchy isn't the same in _every_ city, but it is in any city with a sense of order and common decency."

"Nice way to word it." James muttered darkly.

Jeanine waved him off and continued, "The Primogen - that's me, James-" James snorted in disgust, "-Brad over there, and Melinda here." she indicated the man in the corner, then the woman she had been speaking to earlier - are elder members of our kind, chosen to advise and assist the Prince in his rule. With the exception of Melinda, we're also leaders of our respective clans."

"Not that we all asked for it." James sniped.

"James' sire was the Gangrel Primogen before... the events of the last few nights." Jeanine explained, "You can understand why he's displeased with the promotion. He adored his sire."

"I'm assuming from the context that 'sire' means the vampire who turned you?" Ianto asked.

Jeanine nodded, "That's right, though we use the term 'Embrace' to describe the event. More affectionate that way." Ianto snorted, and Jeanine laughed lightly, patting his shoulder, "Don't worry, you'll get over it. Anyway, I am Toreador clan leader. Maria over there is my childe, and Sherriff of the city - that's the Prince's chief enforcer. Brad is Brujah clan's leader, and Melinda here is a member of Ventrue clan, just like you and the Prince."

"How can you tell what clan I'm part of?" Ianto asked warily.

"If you were Sabbat you'd be able to tell because you'd be dead." Brad announced darkly. Ianto did see the warning look the Prince shot Brad for that, but Brad didn't seem to notice.

"The Sabbat aren't even a clan." Jeanine explained, "They're a faction made up of two main clans and a bunch of traitors. We are the Camarilla. We try to maintain order, while the Sabbat seek to incite chaos."

Ianto nodded slowly. This was logical enough, though a bit worrying. It was a lot of information to take in, and all of this had been going on for who knew how long, in the middle of the city, without Torchwood being any the wiser.

"All clans have their own strengths and weaknesses, some better known than others." Jeanine explained, "Everyone knows, for example, that Nosferatu are hideously deformed, and Malkavians are completely insane. It's less common knowledge that Ventrue are picky eaters, though everyone in this room was already aware of it. We like to guard our weaknesses, so if I were you I wouldn't go around telling everyone." she said with a grin and a wink.

"Not a problem, I'm sure." Ianto muttered darkly.

"The Camarilla have strict laws to protect our society, especially from the prying eyes of mortals." Jeanine continued, "The basic tenets are, first never reveal what you really are to mortals. Second, territory is generally assigned by the Prince, and in your own territory you are absolute ruler, likewise you must show due deference to any vampire whose territory you may pass through... while that usually consists of not pissing them off and you're cool, it can vary. Third, you are not allowed to sire a new childe without the Prince's express permission, doing so is enough to warrant execution, usually for both of you but this seems to be your lucky night."

Ianto winced at that thought, and tried to hide his discomfort behind taking sips from the bottle he had been given - and oh how he tried to ignore the fact it was blood. It really didn't taste bad at all.

"Fourth, if you're ever given permission to sire another, they are _entirely_ your responsibility, their screw-ups are your screw-ups, and you are personally accountable. Fifth, if you ever visit another city you have to present yourself to the Prince there, otherwise you might be deemed a threat... though they're just as likely to ignore you and treat you like vermin. And finally, it is absolutely forbidden to kill another of our kind without the express permission of the Prince. Those who break any of these laws are considered anathema. That's what we were referring to your sire as. Basically, it's our fancy word for criminal, and it means they've been sentenced to death. Think that about covers it."

She glanced up to the Prince for clarification, and he nodded in agreement. "That is the gist of it, yes. My sire's explanation of it was somewhat more pompous, but times do change."

Ianto smiled faintly at that, while he heard Jeanine giggle.

After he had finished his drink - and he was still trying so hard to ignore the fact it was quite obviously blood - he looked up to the Prince warily, "So the bit about territory?"

The Prince chuckled, clearly amused by his youthful innocence in these matters. The air of condescension was quite irritating, but Ianto tolerated it out of fear. "Where would you like?"

"I really like the area around Roald Dahl Plass, and Mermaid Quay." he said immediately, "Though if I'm a, ah, picky eater, I'm not sure how that would influence my ability to, well... not starve."

Both Jeanine and Melinda were giggling now. It really was quite humiliating, but again he tolerated it, and maintained his carefully cultivated mask of indifference from his early days in Torchwood Three.

"In a worst case scenario, we can either change your territory or give you some leeway, once you get your bearings. For now you may consider that area open to you, though I know of a few others who like it as well."

"Malcolm does have a taste for tourists." Melinda put in with amusement.

"There is a bar not far from there, run by one of Jeanine's childer. They serve quite excellent drinks, I'm sure Maria can give you directions once she has dropped you off for the morning."

"We had best hurry, then." Maria announced, "I would like to be home before sunrise after this errand."

"Of course." the Prince said with a nod, "I believe this meeting is adjourned, you may all take your leave as you wish."

x x x

"So, the sunlight thing?" Ianto asked warily, as Maria drove him down to the plaza.

She laughed, "Yes, you definitely want to avoid daylight. Even being in a room with heavy curtains on a cloudy day can be painful, as the small cracks of light around the curtains still hurt."

Ianto bit his lip nervously, but then nodded, "Okay, I can handle that."

"You seem uncertain."

"Explaining it to my friends may be a problem."

"Lose them." she said bluntly, "Mortal friends are a hindrance in the long run. You'll do best to cut ties early." Her tone seemed to add 'I learned that the hard way', but Ianto didn't want to press the subject, so instead he simply nodded without explaining.

The journey continued in silence, until they reached their destination. When Ianto stepped out of the car, Maria gave him the directions to the bar the Prince had mentioned. Ianto actually knew the place, though only to walk past every morning when it was closed.

With a sigh, Ianto turned and headed for the water tower and the hidden lift down to the Hub. He sat down on the paving stone just to the right of the invisible lift and watched as Maria drove away into the night.

Well, early morning. It wasn't sunrise yet, but it was getting close. Maybe an hour or so left at a rough guess.

When he was sure he wasn't being watched, he tapped his commlink, "Hey, guys. Sorry I cut communications earlier. I just figured out what happened to me."

"Ianto!" Tosh cried in relief, "We've been looking for you all night, where are you?"

"Back at the Hub, just outside by the lift." he answered distantly.

Within ten seconds, he heard the faint but distinct whir of the lift moving, and smiled weakly. How was he going to explain this to them?

Before he could even begin to form a plan in his mind, Tosh was hugging him. He saw Owen and Gwen had also come up on the lift. As Tosh let Ianto go, he yawned, "Sorry, I'm kind of tired. Can we go inside, please?"

"I think we need to do a scan to make sure he's not some kind of clone." Owen said darkly.

"I'll explain everything inside." Ianto said flatly, scowling up at Owen, "I'd really rather not stay up until dawn... and it is getting kind of close."

"So first you make a vague remark that insinuates you may be dead, now you're trying to avoid a sunrise?" Owen asked, arching an eyebrow.

"For being a sarcastic wanker, you're very perceptive, Owen." Ianto said sharply, standing up, "Inside please?"

Gwen and Tosh were both frowning as well, now. They had clearly picked up on Owen's insinuation. Reluctantly, the three of them conceded, and they descended into the Hub together.

Once they reached the main floor of the Hub, the team watched with apprehension as Ianto walked over to the couch and sat down. He felt somewhere between way-too-calm, and about to lose it, and he really wasn't sure which way it would go. Gwen and Tosh both stayed back as Owen went into interrogation mode, "So... you're a vampire, right?"

Ianto's lip twitched slightly in a morbid attempt at a smile. "And they'd kill me if I told you that."

"They?" Tosh questioned.

"Oh, it's a whole underground society." Ianto laughed, more pained than anything else, "That's where I've been since I cut off the comms. Having the whole deal explained to me by the lead vampire of the city."

"So, if we kill the lead vampire..." Owen suggested.

"I really don't think it works that way." Ianto said with a sigh, "If it did, wouldn't killing the vampire who personally turned me have undone whatever 'curse' it is, at least on me?"

"Curses are words for things we can't throw enough science at yet." Owen said dismissively, "Speaking of... medbay?" he added, with a cheerful gesture in the appropriate direction.

Ianto sighed, "I was dreading that suggestion." He stood up to follow Owen when a sudden and intense wave of exhaustion swept over him, and it took all his strength to stay standing. "Whoa, what the-?"

Owen caught him to stabilise him, while Tosh checked her watch. "It's sunrise. I mean, like, exactly." she briefly flashed her high-tech watch with a little sun symbol on it at him, before continuing, "Maybe that... had some effect, even though you're not outside?"

Ianto shrugged weakly, "Maybe. It felt like... you know when you're _really_ tired and can barely keep your eyes open, except it was so sudden I swear I almost passed out."

Tosh nodded thoughtfully, as if this only confirmed her suggestion.

"Medbay, now." Owen commanded, "If you do pass out at least you'll be somewhere comfortable...ish. And we can use the lift without killing you."

With another sigh, this one was much from exhaustion as exasperation, Ianto followed. He had just laid down on the medbay 'bed', when his eyes flickered closed and he fell asleep.

x x x


	2. Fledgling

x x x

**Chapter 2: Fledgling**

x x x

Ianto woke up feeling energised but _hungry_.

"Sunset on the dot." Tosh declared. She was sitting on a stool to his right, just now looking up from her watch. "Looks like you're not just photosensitive, you're somehow sensitive to the orbit and rotation of the Earth relative to the sun. Fascinating." she smiled warmly, "How are you feeling?"

"I've had worse nights." Ianto said thoughtfully, as he sat up. "Wait, photosensitive?" he asked sceptically.

"Infra-red A, B and C, Ultra-violet A, B and C, white light, electromagnetic radiation, and low-level chronon radiation, all components of Earth's sun light, and that last one can only be recorded or artificially generated by one of our pieces of alien tech. None of them hurt you on their own. With everything except infra-red and white light, you got the equivalent of a bad sunburn in about two minutes... but all together, even a tiny pinprick of light... um... Owen set your hand on fire."

Ianto looked down at his left hand, only now realising that it was bandaged... and really quite sore.

"Yeah, we've no idea how you slept through it." Tosh said, clearly trying not to show that she thought it was really quite funny.

Ianto smiled, somewhat seeing the funny side, and very glad not to remember it actually happening. Still... Owen... decaf until Ianto's hand healed.

"Ah, he's awake." Owen said, storming into the medbay with a flurry of energy, "Good, you can make coffee."

Ianto rolled his eyes, "Business as usual? Honestly?"

"Well you're not a threat, as far as I can tell." Owen clarified, "No mind control or anything, so if you do go evil it's _all_ you, mate."

"Good to know." Ianto grumbled, as he stood up and made his way to the kitchenette just off the main Hub. Since Owen was hovering over his shoulder, the decaf would have to wait. "Maybe I could set up one of the spare rooms downstairs as an apartment." he suggested, as Tosh and Owen followed him, "There's no way I can stay at my own place now." Way too many windows, he thought to himself, "Just need to find a moving company that operates in the dead of night."

"Maybe your big vampire community could help?" Owen sniped.

"Yes, because we'd love to let them get a look around the Hub." Ianto retorted with a bitter sense of false cheer, setting up the coffee maker as he spoke, "You know when I said they'd kill me for telling you what I am? I wasn't joking. They'd probably kill you, too. In fact, if they find out you saw the thing that got me they might want to kill you for that as well." He tried to make it sound casual, but the probability that it was true did terrify him. He really did care for the rest of the team... even Owen.

He lifted down three mugs, hesitating on Jack's, then again on his own, as force of habit wanted him to take both down as well, but then he consciously realised he shouldn't, before closing the cabinet again and returning to the coffee machine.

"It seems they have a very strict set of laws, which they enforce quite... enthusiastically." Ianto explained carefully, as he prepared the coffee. "Not letting any non-vampires know we exist is literally top of the list. Although she used the word 'mortals', so..." he frowned as his thoughts drifted to Jack once more, but then quickly resumed his work. Soon the coffee was ready, and while it smelled _exactly_ the same as it always did, it was _not_ appetising to him at all. In fact, the idea of drinking it made him nauseous.

Owen was smirking as he accepted the mug Ianto offered him. "Well we're good at keeping secrets down here, you know that."

"We'd better be." Ianto said sternly, before offering Gwen, then Tosh, their coffees, "They seemed quite modern. I'd not be surprised if they were very tech-savvy. It's not that I don't trust your phenomenal talents, Tosh... but I certainly don't trust them not to have some ability to use their age and experience to enhance their skills with technology. I'd rather all record of what I am stay off even our secure servers."

Owen nodded, "Like hell I'd risk Archie or UNIT finding out about it, it's all on paper so far."

"I'll get a PC." Tosh offered, "Dedicate it, make sure it has zero connectivity. We'll keep it in archive level three, that's the most secure physical storage."

Ianto nodded, "Better paranoid than dead. Well, dead-er, in my case."

"You always were thorough." Tosh said with a smile, before taking a sip of her coffee.

Ianto shifted uncomfortably, "I need to get out. I'm really hungry, and to be perfectly blunt, I tasted blood last night, it was the most delicious thing I've ever experienced... and none of you appear to be the type I need."

"What, you gotta feed off specific types?" Owen seemed to be doing a mental calculation, "Well, Gwen's A-positive, I'm-"

"No, Owen." Ianto said, "I was told it's more likely to be the type of _person_. Either way, I'm apparently a picky eater... which, ah, hasn't really changed, if I'm honest."

"You're taking this awfully well." Gwen observed warily.

"When all the evidence is staring you in the face, what's the point of denial?" Ianto asked her flatly, "Spend long enough with Torchwood, you'll learn that... and you might want to pray that you don't, because my learning process for that lesson was Lisa."

Gwen flinched at this, looking at once deeply hurt and genuinely concerned, but Ianto didn't want to press the subject, so instead he turned to Owen.

"Have you figured out any specific side-effects of the vampirism that I should worry about?"

Owen scowled, "Nope, the being a twat is all you, mate."

Ianto rolled his eyes, but before he could think of a fitting retort, Owen deigned to actually answer his question.

"Basically, you're clinically dead. All your internal organs have atrophied, there is no reason modern science can find for you still being up and moving around." Owen raised an index finger in emphasis, "In _modern_ science at any rate. There's an as-yet-unidentified-but-we're-working-on-it energy signature in your blood... and here's the kicker, that blood is in places it shouldn't biologically be."

Ianto raised a sceptical eyebrow at this, "Dare I ask...?"

"The basic purpose of tears is to lubricate the eyeball, and aside from that minimum standard if you cry it'll be blood. If you sweat, it'll be blood. You have a very low level of saliva - and don't get me started on the weird chemical properties there - but if you try to spit it'll still be blood. If you piss, it'll be blood. And let's just say the only people likely to want to give you a blowjob ever again will be other vampires."

Ianto winced, "Delightful." he grumbled sarcastically.

"I've honestly no idea what it is about this blood that's changed." Owen admitted, a touch more professional now, "Only it's definitely still your DNA, _that_ hasn't changed... but there's three chemical compounds in there now that involve unknown elements, and that energy signature which may be caused by the chemical difference or something else to work out separately. It threw off all our scanners at first, before we managed too isolate these unidentified compounds, only _then_ could I get a look and prove it even was your DNA." he shook his head, "It'll take a lot of work to figure it all out."

"You said something about my saliva?" Ianto asked.

"Don't miss a thing, do you?" Owen asked, with a dark smirk, "I've taken samples, it contains a very complex compound with incredible healing properties. I'm looking into the details, and I'd say it looks like if you licked a minor wound - say a bite-mark, I'm just guessing here - it'd heal right up instantly. Also, you've got venom in your fangs, it's a mild tranquilliser with some high-end short-lived hallucinogenic mixed in. Basically, it'd make the victim _very_ compliant and give them one hell of a high. In fact, judging by my purely theoretical chemical analysis, it'd probably be better than most class-A drugs."

"Well on that delightful note... I'm starving." Ianto said with false cheer, "I really need to get out, but I promise I'll be back in the Hub by dawn." And with that he turned and headed for the doors which led to the car park. He decided it would be a lot less suspicious to emerge from there than from the tourist office, if anyone was watching.

None of the team tried to stop him from leaving.

x x x

Ianto wore his gloves to the bar. He rarely wore them, but since his hand was bandaged he thought it would look suspicious not to. He didn't want to be questioned on how he was injured when he wasn't clear on what, besides sunlight, could cause that kind of injury to a vampire.

He found his way there easily enough on foot. It really seemed to be just a normal bar with all the usual groups of young people hanging out, drinking and socialising as normal people did. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, as it really did look perfectly ordinary. You certainly wouldn't think there was some secret underworld of vampires running around in a place like this... but then he recognised Jeanine sitting by the bar, and cautiously approached her.

"Ah, you took longer than I expected." she said with a bright smile, "Follow me."

She stood and beckoned him to follow her, past a well-dressed doorman who gave Jeanine a respectful nod and Ianto a more contemplative and evaluating look, through a narrow hallway and into a back room which, by the security and closed off nature Ianto would have thought was a VIP lounge.

It turned out to be very much like a smaller version of the main room, complete with its own bar. The only notable difference to Ianto's eyes was the fact that the glasses of drinks scattered around tables and in patrons' hands contained thick red liquid, instead of the assortment of alcoholic beverages he had recognised in the main room.

It was also less crowded. While the main bar was moderately full, this room held less than a dozen people.

Jeanine led him over to a table in the corner and gestured to the young-looking barman. Ianto sat next to her, and when the barman came over Jeanine ordered, "My usual, and two bottles of premium, thanks." with a smile as the man nodded and left them alone. "This is your last freebie, kid." she informed Ianto, "Premium blood costs fifty pounds a bottle."

"You don't have to-" he started, but she cut him off.

"I don't really care if you can afford it or not, you look like you need it and I do kind of like you." she explained somewhat bruskly, "Besides," she added with a smile, "You're so fresh your skin might still be warm, you should take every advantage you can get while the getting is good, because most elders really don't care for younglings without a mentor. I think the Prince only wants you around in case your memory comes back, you know, so he can have that information."

"Younglings?" Ianto asked with mildly sceptical amusement.

Jeanine laughed, "The usual term is fledgling, but those who prefer it to youngling clearly don't appreciate modern culture."

Ianto did certainly get the reference, and didn't see any possible reason to disagree, instead smiling somewhat nervously as their drinks were delivered to their table. A full champaign glass of blood was set in front of Jeanine, and an empty wine glass for Ianto. The barman showed them the label on Ianto's drink before pouring it for him and leaving the second bottle next to Ianto's now full glass.

"So..." he asked warily, "What exactly is the difference between this and what you're drinking?" he asked, examining his glass of blood carefully.

"All the blood sold here comes from blood banks." Jeanine explained, "They have an off-date, after which it's no good for transfusion but it's still fine for us. We run the disposal company that collects from all the blood banks in the region, we then bottle it and sell it to Kindred who are either too lazy, too civilised, or in your case too picky, to hunt normally. It's graded by quality, the blood is only as good as the health of the person it came from, after all. Still, to a Ventrue even the best of the regular blood is pure pot luck, so we have premium treated blood. First of all it _always_ tastes better anyway, and secondly I've never met a Ventrue yet who couldn't stomach it."

"So what's the secret?" Ianto asked.

"To anyone but a newbie, that would be obvious. It's really no secret at all." she said with a smile, "Each bottle contains a single drop of vampire blood. You can be picky as hell, but just a drop of even the weakest vampire's blood will make anaemic street trash taste like heaven itself. In fact, most premium is made from the very worst offerings from the blood bank, in order to maximise profits."

"Seems like a pretty good arrangement." Ianto said quite sincerely.

"Speaking of vampire blood, there's one word I've realised we didn't explain to you last night." Jeanine said quietly. Her tone was dark as if she was now speaking of something truly awful, "Your sire's crimes."

Ianto frowned, "You said he murdered three elders."

"And diablorised them." she clarified, "Drinking the blood of another vampire is all well and good when it's consensual, although if done too often the drinker does risk becoming enthralled to the donor. Our Premium blood gets around that, because blood bonds only come into being if you drink direct from the source. Diablorie on the other hand, is the act of draining another vampire dry, and while draining a mortal is only a crime to other mortals and only amounts to murder, doing the same to a vampire will not only destroy their body but also their very soul. It is a far greater crime, so you can understand just why James and Brad were so upset about it."

"Why would anyone do that?" Ianto asked, quite stunned.

"Symptom of a sick mind?" Jeanine suggested bitterly, "There are some temporary side-effects, such as the ability to use the victim's mental disciplines, but it wears off within a night. It's rumoured to be addictive once you start doing it, but I can't see why anyone would start." She was lying. It wasn't a particularly obvious tell, but she didn't quite meet his eyes at her last words. There was something else to it, but Ianto really didn't care to find out. It sounded just as revolting as what he saw at the Brecon Beacons.

"Who exactly did he do this to?" he asked.

"James's sire, the Gangrel Primogen. He was over five hundred years old, and very gifted. Brad's, well I suppose brother is the closest term. They shared a sire and fought alongside each other in the war seven hundred years ago. The third was a Malkavian who lived in the city. He was the eldest childe of Lady Luna, and if _she_ comes to town looking for blood, you're on your own kid. Even the Prince will hand you over before picking a fight with _her_."

"I thought you said Malkavians were all insane?" Ianto asked.

"Yes, and that is not a reason to take them any less seriously. The last time Lady Luna was seen in the United Kingdom, the seventies happened... and I do mean she was the cause."

Ianto spluttered, unsure whether to laugh or be horrified.

"And she was in a relatively good mood at the time." Jeanine added ominously.

Ianto took a long drink from his glass, partly because he really was hungry, partly because he wanted to do something to avoid the tension at that last statement. It was still so hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that this most delicious thing he had ever tasted was human blood.

It was so good he couldn't stop until the glass was empty, just like the previous night.

Jeanine frowned thoughtfully at him, "You need to exercise self-control when you eventually feed directly from humans." she observed, "The blood is intensely addictive, due to an unfortunately potent combination of our biological urges and the downright erotic flavour. The last thing a good boy like you wants to do is kill an innocent because you got a bit peckish and then couldn't stop yourself."

Ianto frowned, "Biological urges?" he asked warily, "I thought it was just about needing enough to not starve?"

"I'm fairly sure you've noticed by now, even without biting the victim - which makes it so much more intense - that the act of drinking blood is on a par with your mortal memories of sex."

Ianto thought about that for all of half a second, and couldn't quite stop himself from saying, "You must not have had very good sex."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." she said, in an honestly pitying tone. He gave her a sceptical look. "Vampires can't feel sexual pleasure." Ianto was horrified by this very suggestion, and wasn't sure he should believe a word of it. "All our physical urges, our means of survival, feeling pleasure, and even reproducing, are all through the bite and the blood. We don't need that mortal throwback anymore. But I assure you, feeding directly from a human will feel far better than just the taste of the blood on its own. It won't be that bad, really."

Ianto felt distinctly upset by this, leaning back into his chair and frowning, unable to really come up with a coherent thought with which to try to understand it.

"You had a lover right before you were Embraced, didn't you?" she asked sadly.

"Yes." It wasn't really a lie. Jack only left a week ago. He could come back, right?

She laughed nervously, "I'm usually so good at telling, but for you I have to ask... male or female?"

Ianto's first instinct was to lie... but then he figured why bother, it wasn't like it mattered anymore. And that thought really _hurt_. "Male."

"He must really be something special, huh?" she asked softly.

Ianto nodded slowly, mind drifting to some of his more... detailed memories of Jack.

Suddenly he heard Jeanine suppress a giggle.

"What?" he asked, almost indignant.

"Your fangs are showing." she observed with a mischievous grin, "Which for the record is exactly the vampire equivalent of an erection."

Ianto's hand moved to cover his mouth automatically, and he felt himself flush with embarrassment. Which, a moment later he wondered at, as he really was meant to be dead wasn't he?

"Oh you lucky sod!" Jeanine cried, "I'd give nearly anything to be able to look so alive as you do. It's a very rare gift." a pause and then she added slyly, "Although it usually only works for those who are both freshly turned, and _very_ goody-two-shoes types. You must be a saint."

Ianto snorted, "You have no idea how wrong you are about that one."

"I mean morality as humans see it. You must have a very strong sense of right and wrong. It's the only thing that holds us back from becoming mindless blood-sucking monsters. I was giving you a compliment."

"Sorry." Ianto said with a nervous smile, "It's hard to tell when you can't decide for yourself if you want to be nice to me or laugh at me."

Jeanine pouted, "Can't I do both?" then she smiled warmly, and he couldn't help but note just how pale she really was. She wore a lot of makeup to try to hide it, but the deathly pallor was there on her arms and neck where she hadn't put so much effort into covering it up. After a moment she spoke again, a bit more seriously now, "Passing for human is a very important thing, so it's good you can do it. You really should hold on tight to your moral compass for as long as you can."

"And how am I supposed to do that if I have to lie to my friends?" he asked her dubiously.

"It's for their own protection." she answered sincerely, "That makes it the right thing to do."

Ianto looked at her, carefully meeting her eyes and forcing himself to hide all the tells of a lie that he had learned in his misspent youth. "They don't know what happened last night. That's why I didn't come here right after sunset, I was checking up on them. They didn't see anything."

She nodded, smiling, "That's good. I did wonder. Still, you should do everything in your power to keep them out of our affairs."

Ianto nodded, "Of course."

There was a moment of almost comfortable silence. If what Ianto hadn't just told her a complete lie, he might even have considered it amicable.

As Ianto poured out his second bottle of blood into the glass, Jeanine spoke up again. "Since you're picky, it might be a good idea to spend the rest of the night looking for your type?" she suggested, "I'll be happy to go with you, if you like. It would be a nice change of pace for me."

The rest of the night was spent walking through the city streets, in a wide circuit centred on the plaza. It would have completely exhausted him to walk this far without stopping, when he had been alive, but now he barely noticed. The areas around here were certainly varied, but at this time of night sparsely populated. They stopped in to a few clubs and bars along the way as well, including a BDSM club that Jeanine said 'used to be cool', and a gay bar Ianto would swear he had once tracked Jack to when their beloved Captain was meant to be on a mission.

No one seemed right.

When Jeanine asked him if he was doing it right, he snidely told her - with a smile all the same - that he could tell he'd not mind biting _her_, but none of the humans around them appealed to him in that way at all.

Finally it was getting late, and Jeanine bade him farewell as he headed back towards the plaza.

When he got back into the Hub, just before sunrise, Owen's bitter tone announced to him, "That's it, no more staying out all night without us. I refuse to go on another Weevil hunt without proper backup... and only one other person is not proper backup, however good a shot Gwen may be."

"Nice to see you too, Owen." Ianto sniped, walking past him and heading down to the first sub-level, where the 'guest' rooms were. Not that they ever had guests, but there were one or two rooms with actual beds and that was all he needed. "Don't worry, you can have me all to yourself after I get a drink first thing tomorrow evening."

And with that he closed the door, sat on the edge of the bed... and passed out from the sunrise outside.

x x x


	3. Nosferatu

**Author's Note:** I already have a general beta who's helping me with this fic, but I'd be very interested in a second beta who knows the inner workings of the Masquerade 'verse. It's not that I don't trust my current beta, more like his entire knowledge of the Masquerade 'verse came from my ranting about this fic, so it may be coloured differently from a true fan.

x x x

**Chapter 3: Nosferatu**

x x x

The next evening, Ianto went straight out to the bar as soon as he awoke, and took his car with him. He didn't see Jeanine anywhere, and when he tried to enter the VIP (vampire) lounge the doorman politely nodded to him and let him in without any questions. The only person he recognised in there was the barman, and so he sat at the bar and ordered a bottle of the premium blood.

After handing over the fifty-pound note for it, he asked the barman, "Is there any way I could go about getting some of this to take home?"

"Sure. How much you need?" the man asked, "We sell it in individual bottles, or boxes of six. All still fifty quid a bottle, mind you."

Ianto considered it for a moment, "What's the best way to store it?" he asked.

"Refrigerated until about twenty minutes before you want to drink it, then serve at room temperature." was the efficient answer.

"And how long will it keep?"

"We recommend no longer than a month, but it can stay good for up to two."

Ianto did a quick calculation, and decided on, "Three boxes will do for now, then."

"That'll be nine hundred quid." the barman informed him.

Ianto resisted the urge to snipe 'yes, I do know basic maths', and instead nodded, "You take credit or cheque?"

"Credit cards, yes." the man said with a smile.

Ianto wondered just how long he could get away with using his human identity and resources, before he had to use Torchwood's resources to set up a fake ID for himself. He dreaded the thought of faking his death, of how his sister would react. All this flitted through his mind as he handed over the credit card and typed in the familiar pin. Then he quickly finished his drink.

"You can collect round the back. Less conspicuous that way."

"I'll bring my car round." Ianto agreed, "Thank you."

Collecting the blood was easy, as the tiny parking lot out the back of the bar was both secluded and completely deserted. Two well-dressed men emerged from the back door. They were tall and fit in a way that was just a shade away from giving off a hired goon vibe. One of the two carried out the three six-packs of bottles, the other held the door and stood watch as the crates were loaded into the back of Ianto's car. They were efficient and business-like, but in a coldly distant manner, and once they had done their job they simply went back inside without ever having spoken a word.

The boxes were well-presented, and their contents weren't clearly visible through the packaging. They could easily pass for six-packs of beer, but the level of paranoia was still perfectly reasonable to Ianto's mind. If one of the boxes were to be dropped passing through a crowded bar, and the glass bottles inside were to shatter... well that could be unpleasant to say the least.

Ianto spent the drive back to the Hub wondering at the behaviour of the two men. Was that kind of silence normal for vampires? Were those men even vampires at all, or somehow unwitting minions? Did the real kind of vampires even actually have minions like in the movies?

Finally, as he parked in the Torchwood car park, he shook his head and dismissed the strangeness of it from his mind.

x x x

Owen was quite blatantly not pleased at being asked to store three six-packs of _blood_ in his medbay's fridge. _Blood for drinking_, at that.

Oh, he allowed it, but with much grumbling, backhanded insults and general swearing.

"But naturally when we do have the full team all ready to go, _tonight _ we've got no Weevils." Owen finished with a dramatic sigh. Ianto was, to be honest, quite pleased by this. He didn't want to deal with Weevils when he himself was physically a monster and hadn't quite come to terms with the details of it yet. One problem at a time, he figured.

"So where did you get that blood from?" Tosh asked, sounding worried.

"The vampires run the companies that collect expired blood from blood banks." Ianto explained, as briefly as he could, "It's still good to drink for a few months, as long as it's stored right."

"Win-win, that sounds like." Owen muttered. "I'd not be surprised if the entire PR campaign to donate in the first place is run by these damned blood-suckers, the way tea-boy here keeps talking about their 'society'."

Ianto shrugged, "Even if it is, it still does good, and isn't hurting anyone."

"Uh huh." Owen grumbled sceptically.

"It's still really creepy, though, isn't it?" Gwen asked, "I mean, one moment you're minding your own business, then the next it's like a horror movie."

"To be fair, it's a lot more politics, less gore." Ianto reasoned.

"Still horror." Owen joked.

Ianto did crack a smile at that, but his mind was preoccupied, "I won't argue there."

"You okay, Ianto?" Gwen asked, ever the observant one.

"I just wonder." he said distantly, "Of all the new things I've seen these last two nights, dealing with the physical changes seems so simple. I really do think the politics is the most dangerous part... and in that respect I'm at quite a disadvantage."

"How so?" Tosh asked, frowning.

"If people finding out that vampires exist is their number one taboo, what's going to happen when they realise I'm still hanging around with you three? What if they find out I have family-" he spotted Gwen's puzzled look and added for clarification, "-a sister, niece and nephew, who I usually only see at Christmas." he shook his head, "What if the whole not-aging thing from the movies is real? It must be, I heard about some who were over seven hundred years old. When do I have to fake my death and cut them out of my life?"

"That's not likely to be for a while at least." Gwen said, obviously stunned by how much thought he had already put into this, but trying to sound soothing and reassuring all the same, "If you rarely see your sister and her family then no one's going to go after them, are they?"

"Though odds are you're missing Christmas this year, mate." Owen added.

"Again." Ianto said with a morbid snort, "Torchwood's never been good about holiday time, has it?"

"Nobody's going to find out that we know." Tosh reasoned carefully, "If they ever ask about you working with us, it's just a job and you do night shifts. No need for us to know a thing, right? And if any, well, other humans find out, we can Retcon them so they'll be safe too."

Ianto smiled, "Thanks, Tosh. You're right. I still need to plan ahead, but for now we can handle it."

"Though for the record, Retcon won't do shit for vampires." Owen pointed out, "I've run the tests for that."

Ianto snorted, smiling weakly, "Well on the bright side it can't be used on me, now, either."

"That's a bright side, is it?" Owen sniped.

That did it, properly broke the tension, and finally Ianto laughed, "Shut up, Owen."

And at that moment the Rift alarm went off.

x x x

Once again Ianto had been separated from the team during a Weevil hunt. This time he had been chasing after one Weevil, while Owen and Gwen pursued a second. Ianto's Weevil was headed for the sewers. If it made it down there it was effectively home free, because they didn't know how many Weevils were in the sewers but the general theory was 'fuckloads'.

Ianto just caught up with it as it was trying to pry open a sewer access in an abandoned factory building. When he got too close, it turned its full attention on him and charged.

He was expecting this, however, and pulled the Weevil spray just in time to give it a full blast to the face and still dodge out of its way as it fell over, unconscious and harmless now.

"Now that is impressive, Fledgling." a deep and slightly hoarse voice spoke from behind him.

Ianto spun around to see who was there - he would swear no one else had been there a moment ago - and then mentally had to kick himself so as not to make some snarky joke about Buffy the Vampire Slayer... because this guy looked very much like the final villain from the first series (the only series of that show which Ianto had allowed himself to be blackmailed into watching, "Owen, I promise you, you neither need nor want a friend hanging out with you while you get off on watching Sarah Michelle Gellar kicking people in the face").

So far common sense and a near-perfect memory told him the odds were strong that this was a member of the Nosferatu clan. Jeanine's exact words regarding that clan were 'hideously deformed', not that he cared to repeat that description. Best not to offend other vampires unless and until you know what the hell you're doing about being one yourself.

"And you would be...?" Ianto asked, in his most polite manner.

"My name is Aiden. And I must say I am curious to know how you so easily incapacitated that creature."

"Chemical spray, acts as a sedative." Ianto shrugged, "It's quite simple if you can get close enough without being clawed up."

"I would be very interested in acquiring a sample of this... chemical spray." Aiden said, approaching slowly. It was almost wary the way he moved, rather than predatory.

Ianto glanced down at the unconscious Weevil, then back to Aiden, "Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement?"

"Certainly. I can offer you valuable information in exchange."

"How did you just appear over there?" Ianto asked, "I'm sure I didn't see you when I chased the Weevil in here."

"'Weevil', is that what you call them?" Aiden asked.

"What do you call them?" Ianto asked, amused now.

"'We' as a whole, don't have a specific term as yet. I personally call them ugly."

Ianto glanced once more at the Weevil, "It's the boiler suits, isn't it?" That was Jack's fault, but he wasn't about to announce that detail to the vampire, however funny it might be to say aloud.

Aiden laughed, "You don't seem upset by my appearance."

"No." Ianto said, turning back to see that Aiden was now right in front of him, "Not at all." Sure, not exactly a pin-up model, nor someone you would especially want to kiss... but Ianto had certainly seen much worse in his time at Torchwood, and Aiden's grotesque appearance didn't bother him in the least. Honestly, the Weevils ARE uglier.

"My Sire always told me, never judge the high clans by their taste in attire." Aiden said with a short laugh, "You present yourself in the manner of the elitists I loathe, but there is a kindness in your soul. A kindness born of honesty, rather than pity, at that. So, you want to know how I concealed my presence?" Ianto wasn't sure if this was a simple change of subject, of if Aiden had just _explained_ his reasons for returning to this topic.

"I am curious." he admitted.

"Do you wish to merely understand, or to learn it for yourself?"

Ianto was surprised by that, he hadn't really expected the offer to be taught like this, "Both if possible."

Aiden smiled and nodded, "Then I propose a mutually beneficial arrangement. I desire two things it will be simple for you to give, and you desire one thing that will be more challenging for me to give. I can train you to use this power, and in exchange you give me a steady supply of that chemical spray... and some time in your company."

"My company?" he asked sceptically.

"It has been a great many years since I socialised with anyone who didn't despise me, either as a deformed monster, or a mirror of their own aesthetic shortcomings. My clan is notoriously anti-social for that obvious reason, and I believe I would like to have... a friend, I think is the closest word."

Ianto nodded, "Well that I can agree to."

"Oh, what did you think I meant?" Aiden teased, probably having already guessed the worst.

Ianto gave him a sceptical look, and didn't deign to voice an answer to _that_.

Aiden laughed, "I can begin your lessons whenever you like. Even now, if you wish."

"I need a moment, but don't go anywhere just yet." Aiden watched with amusement as Ianto walked away to a point he hoped the other vampire would be unable to hear him, and tapped his commlink, "Owen, Gwen, did you get your Weevil?"

Owen answered, "Yep, just bringing it in now. How'd you do with yours?"

"It's down, but I can't come in just yet. Could you come pick it up instead?"

Owen's answer was an incredibly dramatic sigh. Gwen took over the conversation, "Of course, we're on our way."

x x x

By the time the rest of the team got there, Ianto and Aiden had gone. Ianto could only imagine Owen's outraged reaction, especially to the note pinned on the Weevil, 'Gone on a date. Don't wait up.'

Aiden took him to a different abandoned building - this one looked more like it had once been a small office building - which was fully equipped with a windowless basement. It had the feel of desolation from the outside, but once down the stairs into the basement it looked like a very cosy nest for vagrants. The furniture - consisting of two tables, an armchair and a ratted but still clean couch - was ratted, the TV was a small cathode-ray model, the decorations were minimal, but it was all startlingly _clean_. Almost homey, in a derelict kind of way.

"I don't usually spend the days here, but I can make an exception for you."

"Is it not safe?" Ianto asked warily.

"It isn't safe to tell anyone where you sleep." Aiden clarified, "Many of us even lie about the finer details to our ghouls."

Ianto frowned, "What's a ghoul?"

"A human bound to serve you, by tasting your blood. I don't have any, myself... your clan, however, is somewhat notorious for running entire goddamned businesses with ghouls as their proxies in the daylight hours."

"How does that work? The whole blood drinking thing, I mean I was told it's dangerous to drink from another vampire in case you get bound to them."

"It's basically a three-strikes system. If you drink from the same vampire three times - no matter if it is minutes or millennia apart - you will be bound into their servitude. It doesn't matter how much in one drink, only how often. The bond can only be broken by phenomenal force of will - something even the elders are rarely capable of - the consent of the vampire who binds you - good goddamned luck - or the final death of that vampire."

Ianto nodded slowly, taking this new information in.

"To make a ghoul isn't much different from the Embrace. Both are restricted by our laws to the Prince's consent. Both must taste their sire or domitor's blood. Both are at least one step towards blood-bound to their sire or domitor when made. The difference is that to become a ghoul, one must be alive and relatively healthy. To become a vampire one must be dead and exsanguinated, though still fairly fresh. Vampirism is a permanent condition, while ghouls can be temporary if they have the will to resist their addiction to vampire blood."

"Domitor? Is that the relative word for a vampire who has a ghoul, then?"

"Correct." Aiden nodded, "We use that word because ghouls are usually desperately subservient to the one who feeds them the blood."

Ianto frowned at that thought.

"Yes, somewhat unpleasant when you still have morals, isn't it?"

"You say that like losing them is inevitable."

"Would you believe Maria Morgan used to be a millionaire philanthropist before she started a career in premeditated murder?"

Ianto thought about that for a moment, before looking to Aiden, "What about you?"

"Jaded sadist. Love to watch the degenerates and patricians squirm."

"From the sound of it, you aim your negative feelings in the right direction." Ianto said with a faint smirk, "I assure you, I'm no angel."

"Damned right. Angels have wings."

"You are joking, I hope?" Ianto asked sceptically.

"Okay, nobody outside Malkavian clan has claimed to have seen a real angel, but there are ancient documents that can't really be verified one way or another. The only other species you really have to look out for are werewolves."

"So... werewolves are real, then?" Ianto knew that a werewolf had been mentioned in the founding ledger of Torchwood itself, but he only knew the documented details and those where somewhat hazy and spent more time detailing the exploits of the Doctor than the werewolf.

"Yeah, but they don't dare come into the cities. They live out in the wild places. Basically, avoiding them is just a matter of avoiding creepy wooded areas while travelling. Open country, especially the farming type, is usually pretty safe to route through."

"Usually." Ianto deadpanned, his mind once again unfortunately returning to the Brecon Beacons.

Aiden chuckled, "Yeah. You're a smart one. I really do like you."

"So..." Ianto took out his can of Weevil spray and held it up for Aiden to see, "Happy as I am to keep chatting, I'd like to get to the disappearing act some time tonight."

Aiden laughed, "Of course, of course. Take a seat." he moved to sit on the couch, gesturing to the seat next to him. Ianto joined him. "First of all there's an easy way and a hard way to learn, though you may not like the easy way."

Ianto frowned, "Why not?"

"It greatly accelerates the learning process if you taste the blood of one for whom the skill is innate. For your reassurance, clan curses are not transferable by the blood, but many take offense at the thought of even one step towards a blood bond."

"If it is only a one-off deal, it might be worth it." Ianto said thoughtfully, "Depends on the time difference."

"It can take as little as two nights to learn the basics if you're intelligent, focused, and taste the blood. The same level of competence takes at least three months, even if you are intelligent and focused, if you don't taste the blood."

"Well then... as long as it _is_ a one-off." Ianto told him carefully.

Aiden smiled and nodded, baring his wrist and offering it to Ianto, "You only need a drop, but the more you take the easier this will be. I'll let you have half a pint."

Ianto nodded, somewhat nervously, then after a moment's hesitation, he took Aiden's wrist and bit into it.

It was the best thing he had ever tasted... the 'premium' blood he had bought from the vampire club was vile by comparison. The taste itself was positively orgasmic, and left him with no concept of time, nor how much he drank... but it was nowhere near enough before Aiden pulled his arm away.

Ianto literally whined at the loss, desperately wanting more.

It took several seconds for him to regain his senses, and when he did he looked up at Aiden with horrified embarrassment. Aiden merely chuckled, "Trusting, aren't you?"

Ianto blinked, unable to figure out how that related to what had just happened.

"I could have lied to you about how much it takes to become blood-bonded, and enslaved you just now. Of course, I didn't... but I could have and it would have been _far_ too easy."

Ianto was horrified when he realised this was the case, but he didn't have time to think of anything to say in his defence, before Aiden spoke again, this time soothingly and calmly.

"Lay down here." he indicated the couch in such a way that it was obvious he was to lie with his head on Aiden's lap.

Ianto was only slightly uncomfortable with this, but if it helped him learn it would be worth it. He did now wonder exactly how much was in fact necessary, though, as he obeyed this instruction warily.

"Close your eyes and focus inwards." Aiden said in a gentle tone, "Feel the blood flowing through you. First you will feel your own innate talents, they will _always_ be the first to come to you. Dominate, Presence, Fortitude, the strengths of the Ventrue."

It wasn't quite that simple, but it didn't take too long for him to realise what it meant. There was a strange, almost alien sense of power deep within him. It took him some time to properly focus on it, but when he managed to it found it was true that there were three elements to it, and those words did sound like accurate descriptors of the feelings each element gave off. "I think I see it." Ianto said, feeling oddly distant as he spoke.

"Now focus on the new blood, which you just consumed. Tell me what you see in it."

After a moment he could sense three new elements here as well, "Strength, stealth, and... animal spirit?" He hadn't been sure how to word the last one.

"Good. Not the common words, but the basic gist. They are called Potence, Obfuscate, and Animalism. What you will be learning is Obfuscate, and it is effectively the opposite of your own innate ability, Presence. Manipulation of the awareness of others around you, allowing yourself to become effectively invisible."

Ianto couldn't resist a weak snort of laughter at that.

"Something funny?"

"Being invisible is something I've done a lot of before, in a non-literal sense."

"Good, that will help you learn. It is very much a psychological process, accessing your powers. You must be in the right mind-set before you even start. Potence, Celerity, and Fortitude, are the only exceptions, as they are physical manifestations rather than mental disciplines."

"Celerity is... super-speed, right?"

"Correct. You are a cunning linguist."

"And I've heard that joke entirely too many times."

Aiden chuckled, "I apologise. I couldn't resist."

Ianto cracked one eye open and gave him an impatient look.

Aiden smirked, "Keep your eyes closed, childe." Ianto obeyed, somewhat amused now. "Think of how you feel when trying to be invisible, when wanting to go unnoticed. Focus on that feeling until you can conjure it up at will."

Well that wasn't going to take long... he'd only been doing it for half a year before the team found out about Lisa. He nodded to show he'd done this step already.

"Now focus on the blood, on the element that feels like stealth. When mortals give the saying 'reach deep within yourself for that extra bit of will or strength'... there's a part of you pictures it literally as you do it."

Ianto nodded again. Resolve was his experience there, and he remembered the feat of will he had endured in defending Tosh against the cannibals in the Brecon Beacons.

"Well, reach deep within yourself... feel that element of your blood, and draw it out in your desire to be unseen."

Ianto focused, and followed these instructions to the letter.

And Aiden gasped in shock.

Ianto opened his eyes, and asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

"You did something entirely too right." Aiden laughed, "I blinked and you were gone. Though I could still feel your physical presence, you were in fact invisible. I told you it takes a minimum of two full nights to learn this... not ten damned minutes!"

Ianto sat up slowly, turning so he was still facing Aiden as he did so, "I'm sorry, I was just doing what you told me to."

"I expected you to take longer on _every_ step. When you skipped ahead I thought you were just going to take note of the directions for future practice." Aiden was obviously shaken by the fact Ianto had learned this ability so fast.

"Well... you asked me to do two things that were totally natural to my personality when I was mortal... and added the blood in on top of it."

"That still shouldn't... maybe it was a fluke, try again."

Ianto followed the steps carefully, reaching inwards and tapping into that element of his blood, willing himself to go unnoticed. He saw when Aiden blinked, and then saw the look of shock cross his face. Then Aiden started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Ianto asked.

"I had to offer tuition to a _natural_. Most trade within vampire society is based on how much trouble desired tasks would be to fulfil. I expected to spend a week training you, and be able to ask for more in return because of that."

Ianto frowned, "I'd say trade should be based on the value to the person who wants it. I think this is very valuable, and certainly worth a few cans of Weevil spray."

Aiden raised an eyebrow, "What about the other half of our deal?"

"I'm really not sure where that gets to be a burden on my part." Ianto admitted, "I've enjoyed talking to you, and I think you're a lot more honest than many people I've met, vampire or human. Some of the people who act the nicest are really the nastiest, but you're... you're like a friendlier version of Owen, and that is a compliment no matter what he tells you. Uh, just don't ever tell him I said that."

Aiden was stunned by this, though the last part about Owen had him laughing aloud, "I guess you have good taste in friends." he finally managed to say. But then he sobered up a fair bit, and continued somewhat wistfully, "Forget what the others tell you, keep your friends as long as you can without letting them find out what we are. You'll miss them when they're gone."

x x x


	4. Vitae

x x x

**Chapter 4: Vitae**

x x x

Ianto woke up the next night on the couch in Aiden's lair, in the disused office basement. Aiden himself was lying on the floor in classic vampire sleeping pose, and he sat up about the same time as Ianto did.

Then Owen's voice started demanding over the commlink, "Ianto, are you there. You damned well better not be dead, tea-boy. You're not authorised to be dead."

Ianto laughed as he answered the comm, "Sorry, Owen. Contrary to your long-held opinion, I do in fact have a life. I can be in soon if you need me, though."

"Yeah, well we don't need you just yet. No more alerts or anything... but keep your comms on."

"On-call. Gotcha." Ianto said before tapping off the mic on his comm but keeping it open to receive messages from the team.

"I think I would like him." Aiden chuckled.

"I think I have more of a social life now I'm dead than I ever did alive." Ianto said with morbid cheer.

"If you wish you may stay here." Aiden suggested, "Pleasant company in exchange for banal information that 'everyone' knows."

Ianto looked around dramatically, "I'm sorry, I don't know where I can find any pleasant company for you."

Aiden laughed, and stood to join Ianto on the couch again, "What happened to your hand?"

"Accident." Ianto said, quickly covering his left hand, "Didn't patch up all the windows in my apartment as thoroughly as I thought, on my first night."

"Lucky it was just your hand, then."

"Well, it was in my living room, not my bedroom... I got burned before I went to sleep."

"Ah, even better." Aiden nodded in approval, "Good to get the mistakes out of the way early." he chuckled, "My first night, I got underground just at sunrise. You see that type of grating there?" He indicated a scrap of wide mesh grating that was sitting on the floor. "Got the pattern branded onto my face for two nights." a rough laugh, "And at the time I thought that was the worst damage to my looks. It took a week for this..." he indicated his face, clearly meaning the inhuman twisted features, "...to kick in."

"Two nights? Is that how long it takes sun damage to heal?" Ianto asked with a frown.

"Depends how badly you get hit. For that-" he gestured to Ianto's hand, "-I'd say so. But it can vary. Some exceptionally resilient individuals can get over a minor burn in a single night, others can take up to a week for the exact same wound."

Ianto slowly unwound his bandage, to reveal thin shiny scar tissue in a neat patch in the middle of the back of his hand. He could see the indentation, with red visible underneath where the flesh had burned, but the wound itself was clean and covered by the new scar tissue now.

"That was three nights ago." Ianto said with a frown as Aiden took his hand gently between his own pale, spidery hands.

"Then I'd guess you have two more to go, if this is how far it has healed." Aiden informed him, "On the bright side, much as it looks it now, it won't leave a scar. Supernatural claws _can_ leave permanent scars, but not always. Depends how deep they get. Sunlight might scar badly while it's healing, but eventually new skin and flesh will grow in, in its place."

"Supernatural claws?" Ianto asked warily.

"Oh, you've come to the right person if you want every juicy detail. Some might cost, for future reference, but not this time." Aiden said with a grin, then held out his hand before him.

Ianto watched with fascination as Aiden's fingernails morphed into wicked looking claws, his hand turned slightly to give Ianto a better view, then the claws retracted again.

"Now that was expensive." Aiden chuckled, "My clan doesn't know this one naturally. I had to bribe a Gangrel, and they are notoriously self-reliant creatures. Still, quite worth the trouble, in the long run." he turned to Ianto in a more direct manner now, and explained, "There are two known sources of supernatural claws; werewolves, or vampires with this Protean talent. Werewolf claws are the real bitch, they're usually six times the length of the best Protean claws - and mine aren't the best - for a start. Then they're attached to a nine-foot tall mass of very sharp teeth and weapon-resistant fur that fundamentally hates our kind for existing. Period."

Ianto blanched at that thought. It sounded like in a one-on-one with a werewolf, there'd be no evidence left that a vampire had even been there.

"Luckily, as I said last night, they stay out of major cities."

Ianto nodded, then asked, "I heard the word Gangrel on my first night."

"Ah, I suppose you still don't know the clans. Oh, sit back and relax, while I weave a grand tale full of half-truths and hypotheses."

Ianto laughed, and leaned back more comfortably on the couch, listening eagerly enough.

"The popular myth is that we are all descended from Caine. The one from the Bible, the first murderer. We even have our own mythic book of the same antiquity, though there are a great deal fewer copies available and those only in parts. It is said that Caine was punished for his crime, and forced to become the first vampire. If you believe the tales, he's on the sort of speaking terms with God where he can get an audience, but he can expect to be grounded."

Ianto couldn't help laughing at that mental picture.

"Anyway, the story goes that Caine started getting lonely, and Embraced three childer. These aren't recorded by name, to my knowledge, but are referred to as the second generation. In spite of Caine's direct instructions, so the scholars will tell you, these three between them Sired a further thirteen; the third generation, often referred to as Antediluvians because they were believed to have been Embraced before Noah's flood." Aiden glanced at Ianto, seeing the sceptical look, "Yeah, I don't buy the biblical crap either. I always took the 'great flood' as regular old 'natural disaster happens in general area of holy-book-writer'."

"It would be the more rational explanation." Ianto agreed. Still, he was generally sceptical of those who outright refused to accept the supernatural just as much as those who insisted it was real. This might have something to do with his cover-up work for Torchwood, though.

"Anyway." Aiden said with amusement, "There is evidence, if you know where to look, that these thirteen were real, though details may vary. Just because they're named after something from the Bible, like their grand-daddy, doesn't change that fact. Again, their names aren't well recorded, but they were the progenitors of the modern clans. Each clan can trace their lineage back to one of them. This is still basics, which a lot of the elders know. Within the Camarilla, however, they may decide you don't _need_ to know."

Ianto raised a sceptical eyebrow at that.

"The Camarilla maintains stability, and many of the Gehenna cults that go on about Antediluvians are antagonistic to that goal. The entire point of the Sabbat - those few among them who have a point, I should say - is that they want to go out and find where the Antediluvians are sleeping and assassinate them. Of course how many of them are still out there to _be_ assassinated is another story. It's got to the point where most Camarilla Princes are too young to believe in the Antediluvians, themselves, so they've become the thing of fairy-tales."

"You still believe?"

"I've met enough of the wrong people in my line of work to know it's true." Aiden said with a very dark smile, "They don't last long when they fuck with the Nosferatu, though. We may hate the sight of each other, but that's about all we hate. The Nosferatu are surprisingly close-knit as a clan, and a common enemy is like Christmas, all our birthdays and Hallowe'en all rolled into one. We go all out."

After a moment of genuine appreciation for that announcement, Ianto asked, "So... what's a Gehenna cult?"

"Well the Sabbat are the biggest one, but there's dozens of them. Basically they believe that one day the Antediluvians will awaken from their long sleep, and slaughter us all, destroy the world, something apocalyptic. Again, details may vary. Nobody knows what might cause Gehenna, we've got several theories in exact opposite directions. We don't even know if the Antediluvians rising will be a bad thing or not. Maybe one or two of them were nice guys and they'll keep their slaughtering to the demon-cults like the Baali and Setites. Maybe we're all screwed. It could happen tomorrow. Or never. It's like the morals going on about apocalypse predictions, you've had nineteen ninety-nine, I think the next big one is the Mayans."

"Aliens." Ianto suggested in the same joking tone the last half of Aiden's rant had employed.

"Yeah, that's a popular one and all." Aiden chuckled, "Though you'd be lucky to find an undead with half an ounce of pride believing in aliens. You'd want to talk to the Malkavians about _that_. And don't ever ask Lady Luna about them, I was once the victim of a long monologue about evil alien masonry, Pokemon stealing Vogon spaceships, oh, and apparently she thinks Shakespeare was under the influence of an alien spy."

"But Pokemon aren't even..." Ianto trailed off as he realised that the Sycorax kind of looked like one of those toys he had considered getting for his niece that one time. It was called Cubone... and it was times like this when he cursed his eidetic memory.

He shook his head to dispel that thought, and laughed... though if he was honest with himself he got more afraid of this Lady Luna every time her name was mentioned. Though he also found it at least as amusing that most vampires didn't believe in aliens, since he'd seen evidence of them with his own eyes so many times. He was tempted to ask just what the hell Aiden thought the Weevils were.

Instead, "So what can you tell me about the clans?"

"Ventrue, Toreador, Gangrel, Brujah, Malkavian, Nosferatu, Lasombra, Tzimisce, Ravnos, Assamite, Setites... and a pair of usurpers, called Giovanni and Tremere. Giovanni are a bunch of inbred necrophiliacs who murdered the Cappadocian clan and took their place. Tremere, hermetic mages who did the same to the Salubri. Stay out of Giovanni's way and they stay out of yours, usually. Tremere are somewhat more... meddlesome. Half the reason I came to Cardiff is because they don't go near Wales. Tremere clan are a major faction within the Camarilla, and like to think they're better than all of us. Again, staying out of their way is best, just much more difficult."

Ianto frowned at this, but nodded, "And the ones I'm more likely to meet?"

Aiden laughed, "All relative, that. Assamite tend to stick to the Middle East. Ravnos can crop up anywhere, but are usually shunned by Camarilla Princes. Lasombra and Tzimisce are usually only found in the Sabbat. Setites, guess where they live."

"Egypt?"

"Bingo." Aiden laughed, "So that leaves Nosferatu, Malkavian, Ventrue, Brujah, Gangrel and Toreador. I think you already know as much as anyone outside the clan does about Nosferatu. Being a Ventrue yourself I'll be surprised if you haven't figured out most of your own clan's strengths and weaknesses as well."

Ianto nodded slowly, "Yeah, I think I've at least got the basics there."

"Toreador are artistes, dilettantes, and generally opulent hedonists. They adore art, and all things they deem beautiful. You can guess how well they get along with the Nosferatu." Aiden snorted derisively, before continuing, "Brujah can range from once-proud warriors to deadbeat thugs depending on the individual. Gangrel are the wild ones, one with nature, tree-hugging hippies, whatever you want to call it, they're out there... and for some reason the werewolves don't stop them. Malkavians, now those are the tricky ones."

"How so?" Ianto asked.

"Their entire point and principle appears to be madness. Ranging from mostly harmless to complete psychopaths, and sometimes both in the one body if they've gone and gotten themselves a split personality. They have no running theme, they could be anyone... but there come moments when they seem to have such fantastic insight. It is said among some circles; 'When a Malkavian speaks, listen. When a Malkavian acts, leave. When two Malkavians gather... run'."

"I almost like the sound of them." Ianto said, not sure whether to be scared or amused.

"Almost is always the key word, is it not?" Aiden looked thoughtful for a moment, before adding, "I would suggest you go and see if Jeanine still likes you. Toreador are fickle creatures, but you might still get some kindness out of her before she gets bored. She is significantly older and more powerful than I am, so it would be in your interests to take what you can get."

"That seems cold." Ianto said with a frown.

"Because they are. I'm not sure if you can comprehend it yet, but try to imagine living for centuries with nothing worth living for to keep you grounded. That is why so many of our kind are so very heartless."

Truthfully, Ianto had both of those points of reference, separately he kind of hoped. He remembered the feeling of nothing to live for, from when Lisa died. And he knew someone who had lived for over a century and he had seen the weight of that time bearing down upon Jack in a genuinely terrifying way.

The sudden understanding that he was going to be forced into that position... it had the potential to be either the best or the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Depending on how he managed to cope with it.

And to a far greater degree than he liked to admit, it depended on whether Jack ever came back, and what he did when he found out what Ianto was now. Would he end up with an immortal enemy instead of an immortal lover?

"From the look on your face, you've got a pretty good imagination for it." Aiden said darkly.

Ianto nodded numbly, horrified at this realisation. "How do you handle it?"

Aiden laughed darkly, "I'm only fifty-three. Mortals can get to this age alone and uncared for, and still keep a few shreds of decency, why shouldn't I? I'm just the old curmudgeon with memories of a brighter youth. The Prince and his pretty little hangers on, they are jaded demons, all well past their half-millennium, and generally quite happy to act accordingly. It's only self-preservation and tradition keeping the Camarilla in check, really."

Ianto shuddered at that thought, but then, "I should go."

Aiden nodded, "Very well. I hope to see you again, friend."

x x x

It didn't take Ianto long after leaving the Aiden's lair to figure out that the vanishing act - Obfuscate, as Aiden had called it - only worked as long as he stood perfectly still. He couldn't go sneaking around while invisible, though the ability to disappear from sight at will was still valuable to him. He decided he would ask Aiden later if this was all it was, or if further lessons would make him better at it.

He returned to the vampire bar and ordered two more drinks, before sitting in a corner and watching the room.

Once again, Jeanine wasn't there.

He had just finished his first drink when he was approached by another man, whom he recognised as James, from the Prince's office. The new Gangrel Primogen. "Your Toreador whore is out soul-fucking some hot new singer at another club. She does that, y'know. Keeps mortal pets at every other club in town, like some cheating spouse with her toy-boys - and they're always pretty-boys. Can't ever keep track of which one came first, either."

Ianto frowned. This was the second person to give him this kind of advice about Jeanine. And she seemed so friendly, too. "Good thing I don't feel like I need anything more from her. I'm very self-reliant, you know. Would have been nice to have someone to talk to, though."

James snickered at this, "Yeah, right. Look, Prince was right. I may not like it, but I figure you're as much a victim as me. Survivor of a sick fuck going around doing shit you just shouldn't do in a civilised city. That's why I'm telling you about her, because she's trouble, okay?"

"You sound like it's personal?" Ianto asked.

"Yeah, it is. She played this mind-game on one of my childer, now he doesn't talk to me. See, a lot of Gangrel might be loners, but my brood are like pack animals, we like to keep our own close. You ever find out where she's hiding him, you tell me, alright?"

Ianto thought for a moment, and then nodded, "Seems like the right thing to do." he glanced at James, "You might owe me if I do, but the worst I'm likely to ask for is some sort of kindness, rather than anything stressful to you."

James grinned wide. It was a somewhat scary expression, really, but it also seemed sincere, "I like you, newbie. Don't go psycho on us, okay?"

x x x

Ianto returned to the Hub to find the rest of the team still there, in the conference room finishing off what looked like a large pizza each. "You three doing night shifts now as well?" he asked sceptically.

"More Weevils out at night." Owen grumbled, "Statistically, anyway. Tosh and I tried to talk Gwen into going home, but she was determined to see that you were okay. Least the girls got some sleep while I watched the monitors, so someone can cover day shifts."

Gwen, who had been sitting opposite Owen, glared across the table at him, then looked up to Ianto, "Where did you go to last night? We were worried sick."

"Speak for yourself." Owen grumbled, shoving the last piece of pizza into his mouth and pretending that ended his part in the entire debate.

"I met someone who had a lot of potentially valuable information. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep it to myself for the time being." Ianto said frowning at the empty pizza boxes. Suddenly he felt very hungry.

He knew no humans he had seen since his Embrace were suitable for him to feed on. He didn't know how he knew, he just could tell that the thought of their blood was repulsive to him.

Jeanine had called him lucky for even being able to tell, on their night out looking for his type. Apparently some unfortunate Ventrue have been known to die of blood loss by trying to feed on the wrong type, fully believing they were getting the right type, which would then induce vomiting that lost them not only the blood they had just consumed but a significant amount extra as well.

She had also made a rather tasteless joke about mortal women lying about being virgins, though Ianto couldn't tell if this was the cause of death for a specific example she was thinking of, or just failed humour.

After only a few seconds deliberating this fact he said with a sigh, "I'm starving."

"I thought half the point of you going out was to get blood?" Owen asked.

"I did. It costs fifty quid a bottle, and we've got nearly a grand's worth in your fridge." Ianto said bluntly.

"Not bitten anyone yet, then?" Owen asked sceptically.

"Would you, in my position?"

Owen pulled a face, "Only if I needed it to live, I guess. But damn, fifty quid a bottle?"

"Yes, once again I'm thankful for my Torchwood salary." Ianto deadpanned, somewhat morbidly.

The last time he had been forced to honestly rely on the stupidly high pay of a Torchwood Three employee, he had also dug himself into a mountain of debt at the same time, with all the supplies he had needed to covertly acquire in order to keep Lisa alive, safe and comfortable. He had spent a lot more per dose on entirely illegally acquired high-end pain-killers for her than he was doing now on the blood he needed to drink, let alone everything else he had needed to get for her on top of that.

After she died, it took him months to climb out of the debt he had gotten into, even with Jack offering to help him with it.

He could actually afford the blood, if it was going to average a couple of bottles a night. Then again, after rent on his flat, and other basic essentials, it would leave him with very little else in the way of financial freedom.

"We could add it in under Torchwood expenses?" Tosh suggested. This thought startled Ianto, but she continued regardless, "It would technically count as a necessary requirement for the maintenance of non-human inhabitants. We get an allowance for that, and we're not using it all yet. I could just fudge the numbers on the price of Weevil feed."

Ianto laughed at that, "I guess that could work. Thanks, Tosh."

She smiled, "No problem."

"So, starving vampire?" Owen asked sceptically.

Ianto scowled at him, "Yes... the more I think about it, the more I realise I've felt this way since I was turned. It- it just seemed so easy to block it out when I was distracted by other things."

Owen gave him a very pointed look, "No going getting anorexic again. You know how bad it got last time."

Ianto glowered at him, but then realised he was going through exactly the same patterns of stress, denial, and distraction as he had done during and after the time he had been keeping Lisa in the basement. Owen had given him hell on his physical when he came back after the suspension.

"Okay." Ianto said, feeling rather shaky, and slumping down into the nearest seat at the table, "You're right."

Owen nodded, "Stay there." and left the room.

Two minutes of tense silence later, he returned with a six-pack of blood from the fridge. He pulled out one bottle and handed it over to Ianto.

Ianto didn't even hesitate, downed the whole bottle in one go. Then he thought about it for a moment before asking with a sigh, "Another?"

Owen handed over the second bottle, and once more Ianto drained it immediately.

He didn't want to drink more than he needed, that stuff was expensive, but he was still hungry and asked again, "Another."

Owen kept the bottles coming until Ianto decided he had had enough... after consuming the entire six-pack, sending Owen down for more, and drinking three of those as well. Owen held out a tenth bottle, for him, but he shook his head, "I'm good." he said, trembling a bit now.

It was just beginning to sink in, _finally_, that this was all real and not some drawn out nightmare.

He had gone through the same sense of denial and detachment with Lisa, he recognised the pattern... going through the motions, even taking in detailed information necessary to function with the changes, but not actually _accepting_ the facts as facts. Still, knowing that didn't make it any harder to accept.

It was only beginning to sink in now that he needed to drink _human blood_ to live.

That the contents of those bottles, packaged so nicely, and playing at being so civilised, wasn't the delicious ambrosia it tasted like, but _human blood_.

He tried to remind himself of what Jeanine had said, it was all willingly donated and only taken by the vampires _after_ it had expired for viable use in life-saving transfusions. It didn't really help him feel any better.

Finally, after nearly four full nights of acting like there was nothing wrong and he could handle it, Ianto broke down and cried. Deep wracking sobs, but no real tears. He couldn't manage to produce real tears, and he really didn't want to think about the mechanics of _that_ right now either.

He felt gentle, slim arms around him, and leaned into Tosh's shoulder, allowing her to comfort him.

Of all of them, she probably understood best just how horrific the situation was to him. How many times since his Embrace had he thought about the Brecon Beacons? He always pushed that memory away before it hit home, but now he felt like he was the monster.

He didn't even notice how long she held him until he passed out. He just felt too tired from the emotional breakdown to even recognise the approaching dawn.

x x x


	5. Methuselah

x x x

**Chapter 5: Methuselah**

x x x

Ianto woke up feeling both physically energised and emotionally drained. Unlike the last four nights, there wasn't that gnawing hunger in him that he had tried so wilfully to ignore. It was a relief in a way, but that didn't change the fact he was now an inhuman blood-sucking monster. Even if he could manage to survive on bottled blood alone, it still felt so painfully wrong to him.

He suddenly realised that he had just consumed what he had expected to be over a week's supply of blood in a single night, and couldn't help but chuckle morbidly. He hoped his initial maths wasn't _that_ far off, or he really would need to resort to Torchwood resources to survive.

He made his way up to the main Hub, from the room he had woken in - his new personal quarters in the Torchwood Hub, as he realised they would now become - and immediately saw Owen and Tosh working at their respective computer stations. Owen was wearing a white coat with green stains on it, and looking even more disgruntled than usual. So there had probably been an alien of some kind out during the day, and Owen got the joys of the post-mortem.

Suddenly Ianto realised his own situation could be so much worse. Owen's misery always brightened his day, even if he did consider their resident medic a friend.

Tosh looked up when he approached, and smiled warmly, "Feeling better?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I think." Ianto answered, "I might still be in shock, but you know me."

"Yeah, try not to work yourself to more death, please. We need coffee right now." Owen announced, not looking away from his own work.

Ianto rolled his eyes and went over to the coffee machine to perform his usual duties again. The routine was soothing. The joy of slipping Owen decaf positively uplifting. He only just held back a genuine smile as he handed out Owen's coffee, lest the other man get suspicious. By the time he made it to Tosh's workstation, her coffee in hand, he was positively beaming.

She returned his smile brightly, though somewhat warily, "You're sure you're okay?" she questioned.

"I'm still uncomfortable with the need for blood, but I think I can learn to handle it. I feel great this evening, and I feel like it's probably because I'm not hungry." he answered honestly, if somewhat uncertain that these feelings were accurate.

"Gwen went home for the night, and Owen's due to leave as soon as he's done with the autopsy." Tosh explained, "You could stay here with me if you like."

"I'd love to." Ianto said with a nod, "I just want to go back to my apartment and get a few things first."

"I'll come with you." Tosh offered, absently clicking save on her work, "Owen can hold the fort for an hour or so. It'll probably take him that long to finish with greenie over there."

Ianto glanced over at Owen, who pulled a face, but then made a shooing motion to them both, "Yeah, go on. Hurry up, though, yeah?"

Tosh giggled, and Ianto smiled at her, "Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm like a proper gentleman.

She giggled again and picked up her bag before accepting his offer, "Yes, let's."

x x x

Ianto only wanted to pick up a few essentials. Somehow in spite of the fact he had been wearing the same clothes since his Embrace, and hadn't showered or even brushed his teeth, his body felt clean... like it simply DIDN'T produce the waste skin-cells, grease in hair, and plaque buildup that normal humans suffered from.

Still, his clothes were rumpled, and he didn't like the aftertaste of drinking blood the previous night. The taste at the time was positively divine, but over twelve hours later it was bitter and unpleasant, though Tosh insisted he smelled fine.

So clean clothes, toothpaste and brush, hairbrush, some books, and his diary in hand, and Tosh carrying a few of the nicer furnishings she took a liking to, including some of his favourite bed sheets, cushions and a throw rug from his couch, they returned to the Hub. Tosh helped him set up the bed in his new room, and chatted to him about harmless and idle things all along. He hid his diary under the mattress while she wasn't looking, and then went upstairs with her to help her watch the Hub for the night.

It almost felt like his life was back on track... relatively speaking. It was the first night he had felt genuinely _good_ since his Embrace. But that feeling was more physical, a sense of being energised, rather than any semblance of emotional stability.

Tosh was good company, and no aliens tried invading all night, but that wasn't quite enough to hold up Ianto's illusion of normality. Almost as soon as Owen had left, their formerly cheerful conversation devolved back to Ianto's 'condition', as Tosh had now taken a liking to calling it.

He didn't like to admit he needed emotional support, but the great thing about Tosh was she didn't need him to admit it. She was just there for him.

x x x

The next night, Ianto woke to find the Hub deserted, with a note taped to the counter next to the coffee machine. Ianto easily recognised both Owen's handwriting and the general malice in where he chose to leave the note.

_'UNIT called._  
_They need our help on a mission_  
_in the Himalayas. Be back in_  
_three days. Try not to let the_  
_Rift destroy the planet again_  
_in the meantime._  
_Owen.'_

'Again'? That was just rude. Besides, Owen knew damned well that entire incident had been his own fault, and Ianto had done everything in his power to try to prevent it.

Still, he stared at the note for nearly a minute. All the alien-researching agencies on this planet were notoriously secretive against each other, why on Earth would UNIT call for _Torchwood's_ help? Torchwood was an exclusively British Commonwealth organisation, and there were plenty of other groups around the world with similar interests.

Ianto shook his head, it was always hard to tell with those types of people. Torchwood One had tried to get in on that kind of international action, but Two and Three usually held a firm 'we're staying out of your business, so you better stay out of ours' kind of attitude to the lot of them.

He took out his phone to see if he was too late to call them before they left, only to find he had a missed call.

He recognised the number. It was Jack.

Any possible inclination to let Jack stew over it because he had disappeared without telling them was overridden by the suspicious situation regarding the Himalayas, and therefore he called Jack back immediately.

"Ianto!" Jack's voice cheered when he answered, "Boy am I glad to hear from you. Why didn't you answer earlier? I tried calling the Hub, then you, then the others. Yours was the only cell phone to ring before going to voicemail."

Ianto frowned at this. Jack's missed call had been around lunchtime, so the rest of the team must have left fairly early in the morning. "I was unavailable earlier, and the rest of the team appear to have gone to the Himalayas, on request from UNIT."

"That doesn't sound right."

"My thoughts precisely." Ianto said with a frown, "They must have left early in the morning. I just found Owen's insulting note about it."

"When you say you were unavailable...?" Jack asked with the kind of sly tone that insinuated something entirely indecent.

"I was asleep." Ianto answered curtly, "I've been doing night shifts lately, it's... draining."

Jack seemed to accept that answer, and also seemed somewhat rushed as he asked, "I need you to do something for me, Ianto."

"I should really interrogate you about where the hell you've been, but I can tell this is urgent so I'll postpone it." Ianto observed, with emphasis on the word 'postpone'. Jack was not getting out of explaining himself if he could help it, "What do you need?"

"Have you heard of Harold Saxon?" Jack asked.

Ianto frowned, "Yes, he's the Secretary of Defence." Ianto went to the nearest computer, which was Tosh's, and typed the name in, "Sorry, _was_ Secretary of Defence. Just elected as Prime Minister this morning, and there's half a dozen unfinished forms on your desk to be sent to his office. Way to impress the politicians, Jack."

Jack sighed, exasperated, "Look, he's not all he seems. He's dangerous. He-"

Ianto heard a scuffle on the other end of the phone, he heard Jack swearing well away from the phone, and then a different voice asked, "Hello, Ianto is it?" You're Torchwood, aren't you?" There was a venom in the word Torchwood when he said it, and Ianto wasn't sure if he should empathise based on Torchwood One, or be indignant based on everything that happened since then.

"Yes." Ianto said, nonplussed, "And you are...?"

"I'm the Doctor. Look, Harold Saxon is actually a level one threat to the planet. If you've got half the resources I expect you have, it should be easy enough to look up UNIT's archives for the name: Master."

"Funny, that name's on _our_ Most Dangerous Aliens list, too. Right under yours." Ianto said with some genuine amusement. He knew how Jack felt about the Doctor - official Torchwood policy on the subject had been, well, somewhat neglected since Jack took over and Torchwood One went to hell.

"I think your organisation has issues with priorities." the Doctor muttered under his breath.

"If it's any consolation, Jack made a point of ignoring official protocol handed down from the London branch. You know, when there _was_ a London branch."

He could swear he heard teeth grinding over the phone. It was probably his imagination, but he liked the mental picture all the same.

The silence on the other end of the phone line only lasted a moment, and then Jack was speaking again, "Look, Ianto, we need all the help we can get. If you could make it to London, there's something we'd like-"

"I can't." Ianto said quickly. Maybe a bit panicked. The idea of leaving the city was quite frightening when he didn't know anywhere besides the Hub that he could get underground when sunrise came around. "I've got to stay in the Hub." he elaborated, "Before you ask, I'm fine, I just... can't explain right now."

"You're under quarantine?" Jack asked sceptically.

"Something like that." Ianto muttered darkly.

"What happened?" Jack demanded, clearly worried and probably assuming the worst he could imagine. Ianto wondered how close it came to the truth of the matter.

But then... "Oh, have I found your weak link, Captain?" Ianto recognised that voice... it was Harold Saxon. He tapped a button on Tosh's computer, which proceeded to record the call... on his mobile... he tried not to think about how she managed to do that kind of thing. "Really, after this afternoon, I'm surprised you're foolish enough to be using the phones at all. I'd almost be disappointed if I thought for half a second that the Doctor _let_ you do so. Not that it matters, of course. Come tomorrow morning, you'll have nothing left worth fighting for."

"What are you planning?" Jack demanded.

"Oh the usual. End of the world. All that fun stuff." Saxon taunted.

"Mr Saxon, so nice to finally get to speak to you." Ianto said in vaguely mocking tone, "Or is it The Master, now? I could go right to the Buffy jokes, but that's more Owen's forte. Speaking of which, you think you're the only one around here who knows how to tap a phone line? Thanks for the monologue, though. It really helps."

"Ianto, lose the phone, get out of the city, run!" Jack shouted urgently.

"Yes, Jack, let's tell him exactly what I'm going to do." Ianto said with a laugh before hanging up the phone.

Okay, that was bloody terrifying.

First thing, ditch the mobile. It probably had GPS in it... at the least.

Second, he took a memory stick and copied the call Tosh's program had recorded.

Next... he wasn't starving, but he wasn't entirely sated. He ran quickly down to the medbay and after a moment's pause for thought took two bottles from the fridge. In his haste he accidentally knocked over one of the legitimate medical samples, and scowled at the spilled blood.

Then the scowl faded. Damn, that smelled good.

He checked the vial, and yes, of course... it was Jack's.

With a roll of his eyes... and a surprising feat of will required to _not_ lean over and lick up the spilled blood like a cat that had just knocked over the milk... he decided to just ignore it and closed the fridge, taking only the two bottles he had come down here for in the first place.

He drank them both as he crossed the hub, dropping the empty bottles in the bin by the cog-wheel door.

By the time he made it up to the car park he had a fully formed plan.

And that was where he ran into Aiden.

"Subtle, Fledgling." Aiden said, somewhere between amusement and genuine worry. "You probably ought to know, I tap phones."

"Was it the Buffy reference?" Ianto asked nervously.

"I do own a mirror, and a DVD player." Aiden said, arms folded as he stared Ianto down.

"Sorry."

"No need to apologise, I'm sure if we weren't taking the threat of apocalypse quite so seriously I would have found it amusing. Care to explain it to me, though?"

"Aliens."

Aiden rolled his eyes, "Of course." he said sarcastically.

"I'm serious. The Master is an alien. I could show you conclusive scientific proof of aliens existing and my working for a secret government organisation to fight the bad ones, or we could go and try to persuade the Prince that now might be a good time for whatever siege strategy someone as paranoid as he must be undoubtedly has."

"You are either insane or incredibly wise. Possibly both." Aiden said, though he seemed to be taking it seriously now. "If you can offer a persuasive enough argument, I can back you up."

"Great." Ianto said, unlocking his car and climbing into the driver's seat.

He was somewhat startled to see an entirely unfamiliar man - wearing the same clothes as Aiden had been a moment ago - getting into the passenger seat. He stared at this for all of half a second before the man answered with Aiden's voice, "I'll teach you some time. Just drive."

x x x

Aiden had certainly expressed scepticism, but also a willingness to help that surprised Ianto given his previous attitude to aliens.

Turned out, when Ianto arrived in the Prince's tower they were already expected.

"I've been in contact with London for a while now." Aiden said calmly, as they rode up in the elevator, "I think your information is just the icing on the cake, but also a far prettier presentation than I had planned."

Ianto just gave him a sceptical look at that, and didn't dare crack a joke about appearances just now. The situation was too serious and felt entirely too tense.

Sure, when things got too tense, that was generally exactly when he _did_ tend to crack jokes. The snarky humour was a defence mechanism to help him cope with stress, but sometimes you just knew it would be too inappropriate. Well... Ianto knew where that line was. Owen didn't.

When they arrived in the Prince's office, it was to find an extremely uncomfortable and awkward group of vampires staring balefully at a man irreverently sitting in the Prince's seat behind the desk. This man had a rugged and swarthy face, but with neatly trimmed hair and beard, and a dress sense to rival the Prince himself.

The Prince, meanwhile, stood a few feet away, arms folded defensively, glaring at the man in question almost resentfully. When he saw Ianto and Aiden, he turned on them, "This had better be good." he snarled bitterly.

Ianto stared at the assembled vampires with surprised, "What's going on?"

The man sitting in the Prince's chair chuckled, "I love this. The lunatic was right."

"I bet you're loving every second of it, Lasombra bastard." Brad, the Brujah Primogen, growled from the same corner Ianto had seen him standing in last time he was here.

"Yes, let's tar everyone with the same brush, frenzy-happy demon-worshipping poser-scholars in punks' clothing. Isn't that your stereotype?" the man retorted.

"The demon thing was never proven." Brad grumbled darkly, "Also centuries before I was born, let alone Embraced."

"So you'll understand why a sophisticated individual like myself would take offence to being lumped in with the rabble who usurped my clan's name long after I disassociated myself from the rest of your petty squabbling society anyway." he looked up at Aiden and Ianto, "I don't believe we've been introduced. My name is Jarrod."

"Jarrod Mansur?" Aiden asked, with the tone of one meeting a famous person... of the type you never want to meet.

"The very same." Jarrod nodded, seeming to revel in his reputation just a bit.

Aiden had told Ianto that most Lasombra were bad news, though obviously this one didn't consider himself on the same page as his clanmates. It was somehow both very entertaining, and downright scary, to see the way everyone in the room stood back from him as if he was the most dangerous creature they had ever seen. He'd had enough of those most-dangerous-person encounters today, with the Master, thank you very much.

"My Sire spoke of you often." Aiden said, "But it was in the tone of dark fairy-tales to scare children."

"Speaking of which... if the lunatic is still on cue..." Jarod said, standing up, "Aren't you here to tell everyone about the conspiracy you've unearthed?"

"Yes." Aiden said with a worried frown, "From what I have gathered from my contacts in London, the Prime Minister is not who he appears. All his records are falsified, and sloppily at that. Surprisingly, it seems only Kindred and a very small percentage of mortals with known supernatural connections, have shown any scepticism whatsoever. The signs indicate the level of mind-control one would expect to see from Ventrue himself... but none of the subtlety. Digging a little deeper, we can see that he didn't exist until six months ago, and the only three mortals to confront him on the subject disappeared under suspicious circumstances." He glanced to Ianto now, as if asking him to continue.

"I've recently recorded a conversation that indicated he's planning something big." Ianto said, "His exact words were 'end of the world'."

"And you believe him capable of it?" the Prince snorted.

"While we have learned he is not Kindred, we are also certain he is no ordinary mortal." Aiden said flatly.

"He is a threat on par with the Antedeluvians." Jarrod said calmly, "Though from what I've been told, Malkav would have kissed him then killed him, if they ever met. Utterly insane, and not someone you want to invite round to dinner."

Ianto sighed, "I've got a timeframe, as well. Tomorrow morning."

The Prince scowled, "This is utterly ridiculous."

"And yet my liege sent me to ensure you listened to this warning. Says something, don't you think?" Jarrod said with an arched eyebrow, "Eight-oh-two AM, by the way. On the dot."

Ianto snorted, "What did you even need me for, then?" he laughed. It was another defence mechanism. He was shocked and a bit horrified that this vampire knew more about what was about to happen than Torchwood, Jack, and even the Doctor did.

Jarrod seemed to falter at those words, but recovered his composure quickly, "Every detail is valuable. For the time being, however, perhaps I could suggest the Prince of this city make use of the ancient catacombs? How long has it been since anyone _lived_ in the Undercity? And I do not mean Nosferatu, I mean mortals."

The Prince spluttered in horrified indignance, "I will not bring _mortals_ into those sacred catacombs."

Jarrod smirked, "Well don't go looking to us when you start to starve." he glanced to Ianto, then Aiden, before returning his gaze to the Prince, "I will return to my own haven, and can promise you that it will be protected. Both from this coming disaster, and from you. Take my advice, and trust their research... or do I have to send Luna to _make_ you believe them?"

The Prince - already deathly pale by nature - seemed to blanch at this suggestion, "Certainly not. Please do leave, and don't worry about us coming looking for you. We all know better."

Jarrod nodded, and bowed politely to the Prince, barely more than a nod and holding very little respect. As he turned to leave, his gaze lingered on Ianto for a moment, before he swept out of the room with exactly the perfect amount of dramatic flair for what you'd expect of a _good_ vampire movie.

The Prince glanced around the room sceptically, "You know, it wouldn't kill us to spend the night in the Undercity." he muttered, glancing at his Primogen surrounding him, all of whom looked some combination of confused, nervous and uncomfortable. He then shot a reproachful look at Ianto and Aiden, before announcing, "Very well, follow me."

x x x


End file.
